


Tough Love

by 708_nanoseconds



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Cannibalism, Disembowelment, Gore, Hints of time loop, M/M, One Shot, gut fucking, sexual acts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 13:20:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14106273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/708_nanoseconds/pseuds/708_nanoseconds
Summary: Kaworu leaned in to kiss Shinji again, but Shinji was screaming. A mix of emotions flooded his chest, yet he remembered that Kaworu loves him before anything else. Kaworu loves him. Disgust took over and he bit down the inside of his cheek, a poor attempt made in hopes of hiding discomfort, tears flowing.He was supposed to be afraid, but he wasn’t.





	Tough Love

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Episode 24 of the original Evangelion series, when Kaworu invites Shinji to his room. Probably kind of OOC!
> 
> (Because love renders everything okay, even if it’s fucked up.)

Kaworu Nagisa’s fascination with the Lilins were grand.

Born from Lilith, the Lilins were a song, a grand composition. Organic compounds sunk perfectly in place on manuscript paper, anatomical structures connecting, stretched out bar lines. Tissues and cells and DNA messily glued together a somewhat broken, yet still breathtaking symphony, true work of art.

An underlying interest in Lilins’ mentality: behaviour, nature, social psychology and emotions alike had always been present in Kaworu, and he found that physically, Lilins were no less fascinating.

Wielding an incredibly fragile body, they carried on like it was nothing, the inevitability of death, being killed or consumed nothing particularly worth concerning over. By being on top of the supposed food chain, the latter shouldn’t be a concern for the Lilins, he supposed.

And yes, lilins bodies could be consumed, apparently. An incredibly recent discovery, all-around interesting, Kaworu mused. He could probably consume a Lilin, if he wished to.

Admittedly, the thought of consuming a Lilin, let alone anything else had never crossed his mind. Any form of substance intake was considerably redundant, unnecessary for him to maintain the state of living. However, once the thought had surfaced, it didn’t cease to exist. Him consuming something is very different, both in purpose and meaning compared to the Lilins, with the latter finding the action of eating necessary to stay alive. But Kaworu, he would simply merge with what he consumes. Amalgamation, perhaps, is a word fitting enough to describe said act.

And isn’t the thought exciting? The thought of finally, finally being able to confidently provide a satisfactory answer to a long overdue question: A way to become one with Shinji, to be with him forever. Human love certainly isn’t forever, but it definitely would be if they became one.

Kaworu’s perhaps twisted ideology of love, already so incredibly vast had suddenly expanded, exploded yet again with the discovery that yes, you could consume who you love.

Cannibalism truly is the purest form of love.

———

Kaworu had invited the boy to his room after the day’s events ended. Softly persisting, insisted him to come by, It would be a pleasure to have you over, Shinji-kun. Shinji had refused the offer at first, but had given in, given up after a bit of coaxing, usage of body language, shallow smiles, agreeing to spend the night with the Kaworu.

Leading Shinji to his room, Kaworu turned around, motioning him to come in. This was it. He would be able to show Shinji how much he loves him, tonight. He hadn’t prepared much, lack of experience a fatal flaw.

Even so, he hoped it would do. It had to, for he did not have a second chance this time, not just yet.

Though, it was taking forever for something to happen, nothing particularly interesting being done between them. Two awkward bodies sat scattered, Shinji’s gaze fixated on the sunset, thoughts chucked beyond the window, beyond reach, sea level deep as Kaworu grew just a fraction more impatient, thoughts high above in clouds.

He started, “Shinji-kun. This is a strange request, but can I kiss you?” Awkwardness. A voice crack. Pausing, biting his lip, he looking away before continuing, “Sorry, if it bothers you.”

Shinji’s face lit up. A sudden request, albeit not entirely unwanted, or unwelcome. Considering what had happened earlier, it was only reasonable for him to be curious or even ask, really.

So when Shinji shakily nodded after a period of time, followed by a “Fine.” Kaworu had let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A word. An approval. A confirmation that the affection was indeed mutual. He wouldn’t let his feelings go to waste. Shinji had trusted him with his body, not the entirety of his heart. But that was fine, for now.

He pulled, guiding him to his bed, and motioned him to sit on it. Once he did, he lightly pressed Shinji’s body into the mattress, pinning him down. Lanky limbs loomed over, casting shadows onto the boy beneath him. Shinji’s face flushed, gradually turned red, dissolving into sunset, the entire world outside.

The setting sun was seemingly forever, perfect, a near imperial feeling, yet Kaworu dread the nearing dusk. Carmine eyes burnt like the sun, brazen and skin deep.

Deep down he knew that soon, he too would fade into dusk, smothered and crushed into unholy twilight, speckles of bone melting into LCL, a whole rest placed by cruel fate. He stared, gaze meeting Shinji’s, and leaned down to kiss him lightly.

He will be with him when that happens, at least.

The boy beneath him gasped, eyes shot wide open, surprised at the sudden intimacy. Kaworu snaked a hand behind his head, tongue reaching into his mouth, deepening the kiss too, too quickly. Saliva and mucus and sputum and love clogged Shinji’s throat all up at once, the feeling of nauseation, the urge to vomit everything out and get it over with. He hurriedly patted on Kaworu’s back, signaling it was done. He was done.

“Sorry.” moving away, Kaworu said, wiping saliva from the corner of his mouth. Shinji sat up, panting.

“It’s okay,” a weak smile, “It was just...a bit too much for me.” averting his gaze, he continued, voice barely audible. Kaworu placed his hand on Shinji’s cheeks, forcing gazes to reconnect, and leaned in to kiss chapped lips.

Going just a little slower this time, they kissed again. Kaworu slid a hand up to unbutton their shirts, exposing skin under pale light. His hands reached towards Shinji’s nipples, pinching, tweaking them a little. Shinji shivered, but did not protest. Slim fingers ran long strokes across skin like he was playing a piano, handling a delicate instrument, carefully and softly yet with endless, burning passion.

He dragged his teeth along Shinji’s neck and shoulder blades, hot breath surrounding his ear, whispering impossible words of affection, in return gaining his moans, arousal audible in between heavy panting. Noticing Shinji’s growing erection, Kaworu had decided against mentioning it, mouth focusing on sucking his collarbone, leaving behind sloppy bite marks. Shinji tugged at him, urging him to continue.

But instead, he reached behind him, towards the utility knife.

Kaworu leaned in and kissed Shinji deeply. Taking the opportunity, he stabbed and scored his abdomen, hard.

It wasn’t enough. Harder, deeper, just a little bit more...running the utility knife repeatedly over Shinji’s skin, a prayer, a routine, a broken cassette tape stuck on repeat, the red line grew deeper, oozing crimson. Blood started spilling, splitting like river streams, running down bright yellow fields, spreading across well-marbled red and white, dripping on his sheets. It was like hell broke loose, a volcano exploding, in return creating a new world, disastrous beauty.

Kaworu leaned in to kiss Shinji again, but Shinji was screaming. A mix of emotions flooded his chest, yet he remembered that Kaworu loves him before anything else. Kaworu loves him. Disgust took over and he bit down the inside of his cheek, a poor attempt made in hopes of hiding discomfort, tears flowing. He was supposed to be afraid, but he wasn’t. It wasn’t like anything mattered. Kaworu is the only person who cares about him. Kaworu was all he needed, in this mess of a world with angels and evangelions. He could do anything for Kaworu, he would die for him. Living didn’t matter to him anymore, so why would dying? Right now, as long as he’s there, it’s fine. Everything is fine.

Kaworu groaned. Utility knives weren’t the best choice, its blades too thin and vulnerable to cut through inches of skin, but he had nothing else. He resorted to hacking his abdomen open, snapping every dull blade apart every few minutes. The crisp sound of blades being snapped apart twinkled like the light of a single star in the dark, vastless sky. Singular, weak, complex yet oh-so-simple, a complete nonsense. If only he could arrange a proper song with this disorganised array of blades for Shinji, but right now he was already bringing love upon him. Maybe next time. He’ll show him how much he loves him, again.

Shinji weakly fingered one of the few blades scattered around the bed, silver stained with vermillion. It shone back, greeting him with his own vague reflection, a mesh of pale yellow and brown. Kaworu notices, and asks, almost worriedly, if everything was fine. Shinji staggers on breath, decidedly refuses to back out, then replies, choking out words, ”I-It’s nothing. Kaworu-kun is doing this for me, r-right? Kaworu-kun wouldn’t harm me. It’s nothing compared to you.” He acknowledges, decides, pretends that the pain was barely comparable to how deep Kaworu’s feelings for him were: an abyss laced with gentle affection, infatuation, love, down thirteen steps and more, even more. Kaworu smiled, pale moonlight reflecting on his face.

Shinji looked ethereal. A force-injected illness, bright crimson spilt around, red halo circling his body, the feeling of fragility familiar like home. His hands laid folded on his chest, the slightest bits of organs poking out from the jagged line on his abdomen, crimson dripping and escaping, utility knife still stuck to his right. His skin a canvas, seared by a contradiction of blood and gore. It was true art, human culture right where it should’ve belonged.

Kaworu decides it was a job well-done, enough to suffice, and pulls the blade out, setting it back on the bedside table. Placing his hand on top of Shinji’s, he gave him a light peck on the lips. “You’re beautiful,” Kaworu hums, “Thank you, Shinji-kun.” Thin fingers moved to caress the wound, staining them with gore.

“Can you feel anything?” Kaworu asked, poking the fleshy bits of his insides that stuck out, suddenly realising the answer was painfully obvious. “No...I don’t think so. It hurts.” Shinji replied, voice weak, a pianissimo that could’ve been blown away just by Kaworu breathing. With a pang of guilt, Kaworu’s hands moved down and pressed on Shinji’s bulge, making him moan.

He pulled down Shinji’s pants and boxers. Kaworu wasn’t entirely sure how Lilins dealt with arousal. Experimentally, he poked at it, wrapping a hand around his erection. Shinji’s breathing hitched almost instantly, pleasure painfully slowly taking over abdominal, emotional pain. “A-ah, Kaworu-kun!” Kaworu jerked his hand up and down repeatedly, wrapped around his erection. He moved down, bowing his head to engulfing its tip, sucking, tongue attempting to lick its shaft.

“Shinji-kun, how do you feel?” a question without a proper answer, the other boy whined, fragile under waves of pleasure. While continuously pumping and licking, he snuck a hand under, circling a finger around his anus, prodding in with another two. Shinji’s moans grew louder in response, erection growing harder, heat pooling in his abdomen. He moved quicker, making scissoring motions, right hand occasionally moving down to fondle his balls, squeezing lightly. In ecstasy, he came, his body shook, strings of cum shot on Kaworu’s face by accident. He apologised, attempted to, too drained to properly talk.

Letting go of Shinji to wipe his face clean, Kaworu assured him it was fine and reached his other hand up to the wound, prodding it open with two fingers, sticking his middle finger inside. The disgusting feeling of organs meshing together was delightful, dark carmine, bodily fluids clung to his skin. He grasped, pulled them out, and they spilled in response, organs and fat and bodily fluids oozing out, a slick, heavy coating glistened under faint light.

Shinji’s insides were utter warmth, radiating off what was once contained in skin casing. He couldn’t help touching. Fresh blood surfaced, rushed, stuck to his hands and fingers. The faint metallic smell grew impossibly heavier and heavier as he desperately breathed in, trying to savour every single moment of Shinji. The sight, the smell, the feeling. Face flushed, Shinji was struggling, facial features twisting in pain. But to Kaworu, he looked very much in love.

As seeping adoration had drowned out all his other senses, Kaworu had failed to notice that he himself was erect, until now. He was uncertain if it was the sight of Shinji that had caused it, or the excitement of being able to be together with him soon.

Gripping the guts that were threatening to slip through his fingers, he carefully rubbed them against the erection in his pants, it twitched ever so slightly. His breathing hitched. Hands shaking, Kaworu reached down to unzip his pants, while the other hand gingerly held Shinji’s insides, bowels threatening to slip. Crimson stained his pants like glue, bright and warm and sticky but he couldn’t care less. All that matters is Shinji.

Freeing his erection, Kaworu carefully took a length of intestines and rubbed them on it. The sickening warmth, red stains, metallic smell, it all screamed Lilin. There was nothing more Lilin than the compounds of a Lilin body. These were the insides of Shinji Ikari, and they felt incredibly Lilin, incredibly real. Dizziness rushed up to his head, Kaworu felt unbalanced. He craved more, primal instinct taking over rationality. Surely, Shinji would understand that he was doing this out of love, not lust.

Kaworu reached for the utility knife, snapping another piece of the blade off before proceeding, tugging at inches of intestines. He moved the blade to saw the bowels open, one end held tight with his left hand, another pressed down by his knee. It kept moving around, struggling. A prey pinned by a hunter, shotgun at hand. It was hard, tough love, even. But it made everything worth it. It had to be worth it. Oh, Shinji-kun, can’t you see how much I love you? Shinji struggled, screamed, voice echoing in the room, knee-deep in despair but Kaworu couldn’t hear a single thing, arousal clouding sunset eyes.

The inside of Shinji’s intestines were dull pink. Translucent liquid secreted from the opening, dripping out, metal mixing in with sultry air. Kaworu felt his head lighten, his stomach do a somersault. The sight was too pleasant for him to properly handle, appreciate. Stopping now would be impossible.

He mentally apologised, too late to beg for forgiveness. Excess words jumbled, tripped on the tip of his tongue, a half spat-out apology. But even so, all of this was done for you! Surely, you’d be able to understand, this time.

Shoving the utility knife towards the bedside table, he held the severed intestine and slid his erection inside, tip engulfed by raw flesh. The warm, tickling sensation of the plicae was incredibly welcoming. Right hand gripping on the organ, he moved down, overwhelming pleasure stimulating his erection, his senses to no end. It was unimaginable that the inside of an organ, let alone sexual intercourse could feel so good. Perhaps this was the sole advantage a Lilin body had over others, or because he was with the boy he adored, the one he craved so obsessively. 

Pumping the cut organ and his erection harder, repetitively, he thought he could hear Shinji talk, but he couldn’t, couldn’t properly comprehend heard speech. He was crying. It had to be out of love. Perhaps he finally understood all of his feelings, his reasoning, the purpose of all this. Dazed, Kaworu ejaculates, streams of cum filling up severed guts, lining the mucous membrane with semen, part of Shinji’s stomach cavity painted white, mixing in with gore. Pure ecstasy, love, nothing less.

Leaving no time to waste, he started cutting, hacking through his abdomen, loud panting resonating with Shinji’s cries. Pieces of blades marred the living corpse as maggots did, cutting apart tendons and tubes, the sounds of bodily fluids and entrails squishing, splattering, moulding together like putty as a sickly yellow seeped through the sheets.

Organs were being harvested, counted and numbered, arranged into pretty patterns, putting together puzzle pieces: pancreas, bowels, kidneys, liver, gallbladder, stomach, taken out of a Lilin, rearranged into another.

He smiled, expression tainted heavily with affection. Fragments of entrails laid around, misplaced train tracks, lacking a shed. Bodily fluids and yellow, chunks and chunks of it soaked the sheets with a putrid smell, yet they were everything, the entire meaning of his existence to Kaworu.

He picked up the piece of intestine he had fucked and observed it. The inner walls were coated with a mixture of blood, semen and intestinal fluid, slightly tinted pink.

He shoved it into his mouth.

Kaworu wasn’t sure what he expected Lilin to taste like, but it tasted...ideal. The metallic taste of raw flesh and blood. The salty, bitter tinge of semen, intestinal fluid dripped down his chin, drops splattering on sheets. Yes, it was ideal. Addicting, even. Chewing was hard but he had managed, putting force into his jaw, teeth determined to rip through, to taste, to eat. He craved more, more of Shinji. Picking up scattered entrails, he ingested them one by one, greedily shoveling into his mouth.

The more organs torn open, off with a broken blade, the more bits of Shinji scattered, the more Kaworu ate.

He leeched on Shinji, sucking on rotting wounds, lapping up liquids, taking bites of organs: his liver, stomach, gallbladder, the sour taste of bile, digestion acids, muddy greenish-yellow spilling inside the cavity, mixing in with red and white and bright, bright yellow, layer and layers of filth coated the sheets, scattered scarlet shone like sea, the smell of bitter love punctured the air.

Though Shinji was still sobbing, weak sniffles barely audible. Kaworu found it odd, something quite like disappointment, not nearly angriness surfacing. All of this was done to show how much I love you, do you not understand? He attempted to savage skin with what was barely left of the utility knife, picking up tiny pieces of dull blades, weak singular stars stabbing constellations on lymph nodes, stretching across the map of musculoskeletal systems. Dirtied hands had moved up, pressing indents on his clean neck, fingerprints smearing fluids over bite marks, actions done out of spite.

But by doing so, he found that he looked even more ethereal, perfect, the prettiest of all starry skies scattered on human anatomy, and at the very top of it bore an imperfect ring of splotches, splatters of red and purple around his neck, an imprinted necklace formed by his fingerprints, by Him.

So, he let go. Unpleasant emotions had gone away somewhere, replaced by affection, adoration, love.

Truly, he loved Shinji Ikari.

He hummed, toying around with Shinji’s rib cage, lightly tapping on skeletal structures. Filth-caked fingers danced in the cavity, dipping into the stew of bodily fluids, gentle strokes of comfort given in pity.

It was a shame that he wasn’t able to consume Shinji completely, as Lilin bodies were not built for consuming bones, but this is enough, this is fine, he thought. Carmine eyes stared, gaze incomprehensible.

Shinji’s heartbeat was more audible, more visible than ever, anything below his collarbones barely looked human, tattered frameworks keeping a shell in check. The lack of inner organs brought him closer to him, his heart, the lifesource of a Lilin. He laid his head close to his chest, what was left of it, savouring the steady beating.

Now, Shinji had given him both his entire body and heart. Truly, cannibalism is the purest form of love.

**Author's Note:**

> And in pity angels beheld him  
> (but is it really cannibalism if it’s Kaworu? lol)


End file.
